My father does things for me.
Even though he's tired, he still works just for me.
He does Everything for me.
Dad, You have a heart disease.
Please don't leave, I still need you.
My dream is for you to walk me in the altar to my future husband.
You have so many dreams for me.
Please be healthy.
I love you.
Happy Father's Day.

(For All Fathers, and Nurses too.)

Dispensing meds to heal the hurt,
He never treats us like some dirt
But takes the time to laugh and joke.
And always with a gentle stroke.

Such goodness from a gallant heart.
And thus we call him King Edward.
The kindest soul who's ward, I  find,
Is a kingdom (within his mind).

I pray God that your goodness goes
Around the world both to and fro
To ease the feeble, here and there,
From all the throes of life's despair.

Kudos to Father's everywhere.
And "praise" for nurses that do care.

Sometimes I think I'm over it,
And sometimes maybe I am.
But it doesn't mean that I forget
The sting of your raised hand -
How could I?
I know you think that we are fine,
But my smiles are a lie
I think about it all the time.
Now maybe it was all the drink,
Or you're just not angry anymore
But tell me what am I supposed to think
When you walk through that door?
You've stumbled home,
And I can see that glazed look in your eyes
I still make sure that I'm not alone,
And tell myself that I'm not five
(Or nine,
Or twelve)..
Riddle me this;
Was it as bad as I recall
Or could I not see that it was mostly bliss
Until you sometimes hit a wall?
(it was never a wall)
But still you made me who I am,
See I promised myself I'd never settle
For another hateful little man,
I'll wear this strength just like a medal.
So maybe I should thank you,
How ****** up would that be?
I don't know maybe I'm confused
But I'm **** proud of being me.
Tough love or hate; I still wont break
So hey look at me now
Can't you see I'm ******* great
Come on and take a bow.

wrote a poem about my dad
posted a few days ago
entered into a contest
but not for any dough

since it was for Fathers' Day
it makes me extra proud
it won a place and will be read
to an online listening crowd

on a show tonight 10 pm
Late Night Poets is its name
it's just a little ego boost
won't bring me any fame

but I do hope my Daddy's listening
it's all about him, you know
even though he's not in this life
had to leave it long ago

hope he enjoys being
remembered in a special way
Hey, daddy, this is for you
Happy Fathers' Day!

There is no one to call me dad
maybe there’s someone to comment:
He looks so sad or he’s just mad.
But I never had the courage to father
a real flesh and blood child.
That does takes grit
not just to release that delightful seed...
but to be a real father I mean.  

So on fathers day
it has to suffice
to glory in others’ daddiness
and that’s alright.  
It gives me a small but special joy
to see a father squat down at the child’s height
to look into his eyes and really listen -
be it in an airport or market. What a lovely sight!
It brings tears to my eyes.  I know not why.
But it feels so deep and so right
to see them, to be with them
in that moment of grace.

In this sense I guess its ok
to pause and say
that I was a father today
taking on the small burden of another
with a smile or eyes that listened fully
to her or his pain.
That’s always what I longed for from my daddy.
That would have been a gift
he could have given me
on a fathers day.

Wrote a poem for my daddy
just a few weeks ago
'bout how he had a wooden leg
but how he danced with such a flow

Sometimes I got to dance with him
it was always a lovely chance
because even with his wooden leg
my daddy, he sure could dance

But there's so much more to tell
loved his wife and seven kids, too
made a comfortable home for them
worked hard his whole life through

Though his father didn't spare the whip
he vowed he'd never treat us that way
we greatly respected his authority
he'd only speak and we'd obey

Sunday afternoons he'd take us for
leisurely rides in the family car
if we passed a Dairy Queen
I'd say "Daddy, I like ice cream"

I don't remember saying that
but my sisters tell me I did
since he always stopped
they didn't mind their little sister kid

bedtime hugs involved an unusual request
"daddy, please whisker me"
he'd rub his chin on my cheeks
I'd giggle and squeal with glee

He fixed up and painted a bike for me
as I recall it was bright blue
he was there when I was a little one
he was there for me as I grew

He was there to help me learn to drive
and to pick out my very first car
when he walked me down that aisle
I felt like a shining star

He's been gone a really long time
but strong memories I still see
he may have had a wooden leg
but, my daddy, he was perfect to me